Page 12 of The Mare Rider of Cornwall Cove
“Are there any of those sesame balls left?” Phil asked midway through a streaming viewing of a group of voice actors playing a fantasy tabletop game.
“Probably,” I replied with a knowing smile.
“It would be so cool if my amazing boyfriend got me some sesame balls so that I don’t have to haul my super tired body from the bed to get them myself.”
He turned big blue puppy eyes to me, and I was a goner. Even if he was playing the hard-worked jock a bit too hard.
“Pause that.” I jerked my chin at his phone lying propped against a pillow resting against his bent legs. “Do you want some cold milk with that, you poor, exhausted athlete?”
“Mm, milk is good for strong bones.” He stole a kiss as I sat up.
“You do have some strong boners,” I tossed out as I slid to the floor, found my slippers, and made my way to the door. Phil snickered as I eased out of my room. Closing the door with a smile, I turned to find Grandpa in the kitchen making tea. “Oh, hey.”
“Are you looking for tea?” he asked, cane in hand, staring at me as if I were something he’d not seen before.
“No, some milk and sesame balls. Phil’s hungry.” I walked over to where he stood.
“That boy is a walking appetite. There are some balls in the fridge in that pink container with the flower lid.” He watched me dig around in the refrigerator, emerging a moment later with a jug of milk in one hand and one of Monique’s storage containers in the other. “I would like to speak with you, Archimedes, if you would hear me out?”
“Yeah, of course.” I placed the milk and sweet treats on the counter as the water in the kettle began to slowly bubble. Before it could whistle, I turned it off and poured hot water over the bag already resting in Grandpa’s favorite mug. “It’ll steep now.”
He nodded and then took a deep breath, age-spotted hands gripping his cane tightly. “Thank you. You are a good grandson, Archimedes. Perhaps the best grandson a dumb old man could have.”
“Grandpa, come on, you’re not dumb.”
His silver brows drew into a knot. “Yes, I am, I am dumb. Only a dumb man would berate his beloved grandchild in such a way as I did. I apologize for what I said. You bring great honorto our name. Great honor. The problem lies with me. I have meditated on things since we had our disagreement. The world is very different now from when I was a young man. When I was your age, men worked in traditional ways. They went to factories or offices. Women stayed home. Children were seen and not heard. Things were very strict. Three obediences adhered to, but that is not how things are back in China or even more so here in America. I know that you are helping in your own way. And while that may be different from the traditional methods of ghost hunting our family has taken part in for centuries, it is no less important. Your heart is pure and good, and you have done what you could to reunite a mother and child torn apart years ago. That is honorable.”
“Thank you, Yeye.” My throat was thick with emotion.
His gaze met mine. “I am not happy with you going to a place with such a dark history, but I understand that is how you are making money while acting on your calling.”
“I’m trying,” I confessed, my sight a bit blurry.
“You do well.” He reached up to pat my cheek, then lowered his hand to the pocket of his thick green winter robe. He withdrew a long box and handed it to me. “Inside are ghost bead bracelets. You will wear them all tomorrow night. Cousin Liang has blessed them all. Give Phil half, and you keep half. With the blessings of the triple gem, may tomorrow’s show be successful and safe.”
I hugged him tight, the box of bracelets rattling softly. I released him carefully.
“Let me carry this cup of tea to your room,” I offered, and he nodded his bald head.
“I would like some sesame balls as well,” he said before shuffling off to his room.
Phil would have to have three or four less on his plate. I knew he would be totally fine with that.
***
Funny how most people going out for New Year’s would be excited.
Phil and I were oozing apprehension.
“You sure?” he asked for the ten billionth time as we packed the equipment into padded bags. Thankfully, there was no water nearby, so a dousing of expensive cameras wouldn’t be a worry this time. The only concern not psychic-related was the life of the batteries, but the shortness of the stream didn’t make that a huge problem.
“Yeah, it will be fine. We’ll steer clear of the cemetery out back. That will lessen the interactions with any specters, and then we’ll just do a precursory excursion through the first floor. According to what I’ve read, that is the only safe floor to even venture into as the second and third floors are rotted. Give the viewers a few peeks into a truly horrible place, maybe converse with a spirit or two who may be residentiary and hopefully FIA—friendly interactive apparitions—and then head back to our little camp area in the game room.”
“Hmmm,” Phil said as he rolled a sleeping bag into a tight log. “Game room should be cool.”
“Totally. That’s why I chose it,” I said cheerily, my tone belying how damn edgy I was. Even with forty ghost bead bracelets—twenty a piece—I still had misgivings. But I had done research. So much research that I’d barely slept last night, which in turn had kept Phil up as well. He was exhausted and carrying the worry of an upcoming playoff game as well as the jitters over our stream in a few hours. “I found a map of the hospital on some old website that deals with haunted asylums.”
His sleepy blue gaze moved from the sleeping bag wrapping to me. “How haunted is this one?” I shrugged. He pursed his lips.“Come on, don’t hide things from me, Arch. I need to know what we’re facing so I can protect you.”
